


Sky blue silk and ivory lace

by Crowley_Kitten



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale in Lingerie (Good Omens), Corsetry, Lingerie, M/M, Stockings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27046240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowley_Kitten/pseuds/Crowley_Kitten
Summary: underneath his usual attire, Aziraphale has a surprise for Crowley.day 11 of Ineffable KinktoberLingerie/clothed.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30
Collections: Ineffable Kinktober 2020, my Ineffable Kinktober





	Sky blue silk and ivory lace

Aziraphale dabbed at his pretty pink lips with the cotton napkin. Placing it neatly beside his plate. Crowley had been near losing his mind watching, as they chatted lightly, those fine, well-manicured fingers trailing through the remnants of the salted caramel sauce, and bringing them again and again to his lips. 

“Mmmmm. Lovely! How is your coffee, dear?” He asked, smiling, knowing what the answer would be. 

“As black and bitter as my wicked little heart, Angel.” And of course, his customary response. 

“Six sugars and a pint of cream?” Crowley smiled fondly, lightly brushing his fingers over the back of Aziraphale’s hand. The Demon was soft. They both knew it. His honey gold eyes glowing with affection. To think, this enticing creature was the downfall of Eden. And all that brought. Yes, mankind fell, but oh how they ROSE. They created, they grew, they inspired. They made music, art, literature, wine, delicious food, beautiful architecture. Without Crowley, would they still be naked and content in the garden? Would that be better? Aziraphale didn’t think so. For all the wickedness in the world, Crowley had, he admitted, even only in his own head, Crowley had given them their humanity. And it made life so much more worth living. And Aziraphale, well, Crowley WAS his world. Without Crowley, no doubt he’d have taken his summons to war as just the way things were meant to be. Yes, Aziraphale loved the world, but Crowley gave him the desire to fight for it. Aziraphale cupped that chiseled jaw in his palm, leaning in for a soft, slow kiss. A kiss where the rich bitterness of the actually really very good coffee and the salt and sweet of Aziraphale’s indulgent dessert mingled. With a happy wriggle, Aziraphale nodded towards a waiter to settle up the bill. 

as they stumbled into the chilly autumnal air, they fell into each other's arms, kissing long and slow and searching. Crowley's fingers trailed down Aziraphale’s soft flanks. His eyes widened. 

“Well, what have we here?” He asked slyly, tracing the edge of steel boning under Aziraphale’s comfortable, soft layers. “What a nice surprise! I can’t wait to see what you’ve got under there” His fingers slipped around the Angels waist, noticing how the lines were smoother. Firmer. His hand reached around to the small of his back, slipping under his shirt, tugging at the ties he found there. Aziraphale gasped a little as his torso felt the little momentary squeeze. His other hand reached down to palm those gorgeous round buttocks. Fuck Aziraphale had SUCH a gorgeous, generous arse. As he caressed, he felt his fingertips snag on something. A strap. His eyes widened. “Oh, Angel!?” Aziraphale smiled almost shyly. “I need to get you back home and see what you’ve got on under there. He crushed their bodies together, feeling an answering hardness there to his own. Crowley moaned. “Need to get you home. My flat’s closer.” 

In the lift, Crowley punched in his floor, then fell upon his angel, kissing hungrily as he pressed him against the mirrored wall. Trailing his fingers down over those thick thighs, he lingered over the ridge of the suspender belt. 

“FUCK, Angel, you’re going to discorporate me!” Aziraphale whimpered as Crowley hoisted his thighs over his sharp hips, a searing, devouring kiss making him feel weak. “Can’t get enough of you.....got 6000 missing years to catch up on.” 

“Hmmmm, we’d better get on with it then” The door opened with an announcing ding, and the pair stumbled out into the hallway. Still kissing. Crowley didn’t bother with his key. The door WOULD open for them. It always did. As they burst through the door, they were tugging hungrily, discarding clothes as they went, Aziraphale wasn’t even stopping to fold them, although Crowley had no doubt that in the morning they would be neatly folded on the dresser. He didn’t even object when one of the buttons popped off the well-worn waistcoat. He knew Aziraphale would stitch it back in place himself. He always did. That threadbare thing was older than the Bentley. And not nearly so pristine. When Aziraphale was down to his trousers and shirt, Crowley eased his suspenders.... the ones he was USED to him wearing, off his broad shoulders. The moment slowed. Stilled as their eyes met. Both panting with excitement. 

“Show me.” Crowley asked softly. Aziraphale, not dropping his gaze from Crowleys golden, expressive eyes, slowly uncuffed his shirt. He placed the cufflinks neatly on the bedside table. Agonizingly slowly he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually exposing the beauty beneath. First, the soft dusting of white cold hair over his pale, soft chest, then lower, the baby blue silk cincher. Trimmed with ivory lace. It couldn’t be more perfect on his angel. Aziraphale let the shirt drop, smiling at Crowley's dumbstruck expression, why the stitching was even a muted soft gold. “Angel.” Crowley sighed reverentially, dropping to his knees. “may I?” he whispered, reaching for the buttons of his angels formal trousers. He nodded. Crowley moaned in agonised hunger as he slowly drew them downwards, skimming his fingers over the suspender belt to the ivory silk stockings. The touch of the fingers through the silk made him shiver in delight. Crowley swallowed hard as he took in the tight cloth of the blue and ivory silk french knickers straining over the angels insistently hard cock. His mouth watered, drawing them down over the stockings, burying his face in the soft, fluffy curls that beautifully echoed the ivory lace. “Angel, pleeeeeaaaase. 

Aziraphale smiled down. His eyes darkened with desire. 

“What do you want, Crowley? Ask me and I will give freely.” 

“I want you.....it’s all I’ve EVER wanted.” Aziraphale knew it was the truth.


End file.
